Assassin's Creed: Legacy
by Cameron1994
Summary: The year is 1886. Corrupt politicians and merchants run the city by day, by night a ruthless street gang calling themselves the Blighters stalk the streets. One Assassin walks the streets but she is no match for the Templar's who run the city she calls home. That is, until she and her mentor are joined by twin Assassin's from Crawley. Evie x OC Rated T for future chapters.
1. Prologue

**COMING SOON...**

 **ASSASSIN'S CREED: LEGACY.**

By Strategy and Steel, the Templar's will Fall- Evie Frye

The stink attacked my nose. London stank, that's all I could say. Grime and muck could be found all over the city. Thick black billowing clouds of crap gusted from the countless factories day and night with no hesitation, like a large pack of dragons had inhabited the city one night and had refused to leave. Children ran about with no parents, living on the streets begging for food or being pulled off to work in the countless child labour factories. The constant smog blackened lungs and blackened hearts, the city was a dreary place to live. Rich people became richer standing on the backs of the poor who sunk further in to poverty. This was a city made on the backs of slaves. A train from somewhere over head roused me from my lacklustre thoughts. Lifting my head I noticed I was approaching a public house from the other side of the road. It was dirty and dark, it was the Cock and Hen. A local favourite for the working men of the Whitechapel area. I blinked as a loud roar of voices erupted from inside, seems someone had just won a large wager on an arm wrestle inside. A man stumbled though the splintered doorway and slumped against it. He wore a blazer of deep red material and a dirty top hat knocked to one side. His uniform had probably once looked quite smart and elegant but now it was near ruin, covered in dirt, dried blood and ale. His face was scruffy with the makings of a beard. The man was obviously too lazy to shave once-in-a-while, his drunken eyes fell on me as I continued to walk passed. I could feel his filthy eyes making their way up my body, it made my skin crawl. My black boots clunked dully on the cobble stoned floor, my black trousers were belted with a fading brown leather belt that had a leather pouch dangling on my left side from a belt loop. It bobbed and lurched with the movement of my hips. I had brown leather moving down the outside of both legs laced with purple that caused perverted men to look my slender legs down then up again- usually with a hungry glint in their eyes. Though my upper body was mostly hidden by a long black and purple hooded trench coat that hung around my calves and swayed just above the filth and crap littering the streets, the leering man could still see my overbust corset built with me in mind, the tailor had added a belt and small short sleeved jacket to the design. Fitted to my purposes, of course. The long white sleeves of my shirt hidden by my coat.

'Oy, oy!' The man cried stumbling forwards a little way. My long deep red hair billowed out behind me in the small flurry of air that I had picked up with the swiftness of my pace. My boots thudded rather than clacked like normal English women as they strutted about in their heels and overly puffy dresses. I wasn't like that. My mother was, but I wasn't. Grandfather had always said I was like my grandmother, she was headstrong and hated frilly dresses too. I revelled in what little I knew about my grandmother. It brought a wistful warmth with it as my thoughts drifted back to my mother who had taken her looks from her father. She had given up on the life I now led, preferring to bask in the life she never had as a young woman and child. Living in the luxury of British aristocracy in Kensington. But not me, I preferred to carry on my late grandfathers' work in the nitty gritty downright dangerous borough of Whitechapel. Deep in the thriving underbelly of Whitechapel itself was a ruthless gang called the Blighters that spread out to reach and terrorise all of London. The Whitechapel Blighters were ruled with an iron fist by a man names Rexford Kaylock. A rather cowardly man if you ask me, he would rather run than stand and fight, and die for his wrongdoings against London and its subjugated people. He had been dubbed as the 'man who can vanish'. Not a good nickname to have in my opinion. I was drawn from my cogitations by the man, who had turned and was following me, rather drunkenly, down the street from the other side, calling out to me and wolf whistling.

'Oy!' He called again, this time through a rather disgusting burp, 'let's me feel yer Bristol's!' He bawled leaning to steady himself against the window of an apothecary. His shout had had gained some rather shocked and disturbed glances in our direction. Lone women hurried on for fear he would on them if they stayed, and women with children covered their little ears and ushered them on with frantic whispers. Men stiffened as I passed them, eyeing the drunk man, probably trying to decide whether they should step in and protect a defenceless young woman such as I from the drunken clutches of a man who had too much ale and beer. Their canes ground into the cobblestone street in their angered turmoil. I kept walking, my eyes trained on an alleyway that was looming closer and closer in the shadow of the shops in lay nestled between. I'd slip down there.

'C'mon luv, come'n drab and grink wiv me?' He called again with a hiccup, 'ey!' I could hear his pace quicken as I ducked into the alleyway, out of the slight warmth of the sun as it attempted to shine through the dreary clouds obscuring it. All in all it was a rather dull and boring sort of day. I flashed him a coy smile just as I turned with a whip of my coat into the alleyway. The alley was smaller than most, there was just enough room for me to walk properly through the walkway. The alley was loose cobblestones on mud with a little bit of grass poking through where it could. The putrid smell of vomit, piss and all over horribleness lingered in the small space. A large hand caught my wrist and tugged me back with great force, I was hauled backwards and smacked my head against the outer wall of a general store on the other side of the alleyway. I bit back a hiss of pain as I felt a small wound open and the soft trickle of blood through my hair. Great. The drunkard had caught up with me, pressing me against the wall with one hand on the wall by my head and the other keeping a firm grip on my wrist. I could clearly see he didn't think much of personal hygiene. I could count the gaps he had in his teeth, and the teeth he did still have were yellowed and black with rot. A horrid, rancid smell was hazing from his mouth, as if he had never brushed a day in his life. It took all of my might not to shield my nose with my free hand. He leered at me with a sickening expression that clearly told me what he intended to do with me.

'Ex-excuse me?' I squeaked in a voice that definitely didn't suit me, 'but are you Shelton Creakle?' I asked sweetly fluttering my eyes for extra measure. His face twitched with surprise but a wide sneering grin pulled its way across his unshaven face, pleased to have been recognised.

'Yeah,' he slurred, god I hate men, I thought internally rolling my eyes, 'I am.' I could feel his hot, sticky, dirty breath coming from his nose as he leaned over me.

'Good!' I exclaimed gritting my teeth as I slammed a hidden blade into his stomach. He sputtered and stepped away, dazed and confused and blood began pouring from his mouth staining his chin red. His shaky hands went to his stomach where they too became covered in blood. He looked to his hands and then at me disbelievingly.

'Your-you're an Assassin?' He croaked, what little life he had left was beginning to seep from his murky watery eyes.

'Yes.' I replied shortly, 'I have come to put a stop to you Mr Creakle. You are Mr Kaylock's head of distribution. Everything exported and imported goes passed you, correct?' I asked without waiting for him to answer, 'I have now severed Rexford Kaylock's link to the material that is needed for the people to take back their city from you Templar's.'

'You…' he rasped shifting his legs heavily, 'you are delusional.' He gave one last gurgling breath before he crumpled at my feet.

'And you…are dead.'

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 **Look out for chapter 1 coming soon...**


	2. Meeting the Twins

**Hello readers**

 **Here is chapter one already for you guys to enjoy. A special thanks to Mourek.45 for my very first Assassin's Creed: Legacy review. Brownie points for you :) Anyways, here is chapter 1, please read and review. And don't forget to enjoy it.**

Assassin's

Creed

LEGACY

Chapter One: Meeting the Twins.

In the flat above the curiosity shop my friend, Henry Green, owned I watched the rain falling like tiny needles from the black sky above the city. The city really did look dreary and evil this time of night. I stood gazing aimlessly out of a window onto the street below, the blade of my Devil's Handshake gauntlet mechanism fiddling between my fingers. My room was relatively small, though bigger by a tiny margin than Henry's, who had so kindly given me his library when I turned up on his doorstep nine years ago on a similar night to this. Henry was out on his regular patrol, making sure his contacts were still loyal to the Assassin cause. I had stayed behind to mind the shop but seeing as it was lashing with rain outside I doubted anyone would stop by. The small glow of the candle on my nightstand was the only light, I watched its reflection absently in the window. My robes lay on my neatly made bed and my sleeves had been rolled up, I couldn't stand for long sleeves when I didn't need them. I ran my index finger delicately along the edge of my blade, careful not to draw blood, to the point where I pressed down ever so gently. A slight pain seared its way from my finger, through my hand and up my arm, but I hadn't drawn blood so I paid it no mind. I was just about to retract my blade when a sudden thud from downstairs caught my attention. I pulled my model 3 revolver from the holster on my leg and a dagger from a hidden pocket in my waistcoat. I crept out into the dark hallway and to the top of the stairs. I froze in my tracks. I could hear voices. By the sound of it, a man and a woman. And they were looking for something. I couldn't hear them clearly but I caught a couple of words from the woman, 'father' and 'Croydon'. I made my way down the stairs as swiftly and as quietly as possible, skipping the last two steps- they creaked ever so loudly. I quickly recalled the times I snuck down into the kitchen only to have my plans foiled by the last two steps. I leaned against the empty door frame that led into the shop with my gun pulled to my chest with one hand and my knife gripped backwards, at my side, with the other. I peered round to get a glimpse of the intruders. I was right in thinking it was a man and woman. The man stood half a head taller than his female counterpart. Though I couldn't see much in the dim light of the candle they had lit on the desk, I could tell the man had scruffy hair underneath a flat cap. He had a strong set jaw with a hint of stubble and his face had a mischievous glint about it. The woman on the other hand, who was standing closer, had her dark brown hair pulled into a pleated bun with a few wisps hanging down by her eyes. She was leaning over reading the days takings. She seemed quite absorbed. She had a strong jaw too, but feminine. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration as she took all the information the log book had to offer in the dim candle light.

'This isn't Henry's handwriting,' she muttered resting a gloved hand to her chin. I nearly let out an audible gasp as she looked up to face her partner. She had the most beautiful freckled face I had ever seen. Her expression said she was strong willed and determined. My kind of girl.

'Then it's probably some lad who works for him,' said the man, taking his cap off and waving it around a little, as though bored.

'No, it's too neat for it to belong to a man. Jacob, come and look at this,' the woman ordered the man now known as Jacob. Jacob slapped his cap back on his head and with a heavy sigh made his way over to lean beside the woman and read the book.

'Must belong to a beautiful girl,' he decided straightening himself back up.

'It seems Mr Green isn't here at the moment. We'll have to come back later.' Sighed the woman throwing a fleeting glance at the book before leaving. Jacob also lingered, though a tad longer than the woman. He had noticed another one of my coats on a hook near the door, but it wasn't one of my assassin ones. It was short, the back being the longest stopped at my middle thigh with a slight ruffle on the back. It was emerald green, reminiscent of my life in Paris and also in memory of my grandparents.

'Must be one heck of a beauty to pull this off. Heck, I bet even you couldn't pull a look like that off, Evie!' Jacob sniggered. Evie's face contorted with anger and had I not jumped out and pinned Jacob to the floor, I'm sure she would have done something just as violent. He was belly down with me sat squarely on his back pinning his hands to the floor. Evie had pulled her gun from under her coat and was aiming it at my head, a deathly glare on her face.

'Please tell me that's a basket of oranges on my back!' Jacob whined, 'and not some bloke!' Evie's eyes fluttered, I wasn't sure if it was anger at Jacob's comment or because I was pinning her partner to the floor but I took her distraction and threw myself out, kicking her legs from under her and grabbing her gun and my knife from my belt. I held the gun at Evie's beautiful face and hovered my knife an inch from Jacob's backside.

'Either one of you moves; you,' I said to Evie, 'will lose that beautiful face of yours, and you,' I poked Jacob's arse gently with the tip of my knife, 'will lose your pretty little backside.' He squirmed and wriggled, trying to get the tip of my knife away from his arse.

'Now,' I lowered the gun from Evie's face as I sat back to sit on Jacob. I rested my chin on the barrel of the gun as I looked intently at Evie, 'what do you want with Henry?' I didn't bother listening to Jacob as he began hurriedly replying. He had his face half buried on the rough unwaxed wooden floor so I couldn't hear him very well anyway.

'Well?' I prompted Evie as her glared darkened, I had my foot resting on her leg so she couldn't get away.

'I've got all the time in the world,' I teased, biting the inside of my lip and drawing my tongue over the raised ridges, 'I have all of your weapons, plus my own, and neither of you can get up.' I said nonchalantly as I inspected her gun. A revolver pistol. Sleek and silver with hints of gold filigree. Nice.

'Do you work for Henry Green?' Evie asked, her head hung a little low but her eyes, which I now saw as a beautiful mix of dark and light blue, never left mine.

She huffed angrily shifting her head aggressively, 'answer my damn question!' She growled, she seemed prone to these violent outbursts. I tutted waving a finger at her, a sarcastic smirk on my face.

'Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,' I bargained.

She huffed, glaring at me as she ground her teeth, thinking about her options.

'Oh just tell her Evie!' Cried Jacob from under me making me jump a little, he had been so quiet and so still I had forgotten I was sitting on him, 'so I can get this lump off me!'

'We work for a secret organisation and we've come to London to—'

I blinked, 'wait. Your Assassin's?' I nearly dropped Evie's pistol. Both Evie and Jacob nodded, though Jacob did with great difficulty.

'So am I.' I smiled heaving Evie to her feet and offering my hand to shake, 'my name's Élise, Élise Dorian. Nice to meet you.'

'Here', I said placing a large plate of Victoria sponge between the two, who I had now discovered were twins. They sat in the tiny stone kitchen at the back of the shop sitting either side of our pitiful wooden table. They both had steaming cups of tea in the best bone china cups Henry could buy, he hid them at the back of the tallest cupboard so I couldn't use them willy-nilly but Jacob had kindly pulled them out for me. They had sat in silence whilst I busied myself with making tea. Jacob helped himself to a large slice of cake muttering his thanks as he did so. I smiled at his charming childishness, though the smile didn't last long- I could feel Evie's calculating stare boring into my back. My hair, in its half up-half down style, shimmied with my small movements as I pottered about on the kitchen side. I gulped a little at the intensity, I heard someone shift slightly behind me and felt a sudden presence right beside me. I gasped, I barely heard them move.

'This is lovely tea,' it was Evie. She was leaning against the side next to me with the finely crafted bone china tea cup pressed lightly against those sumptuous lips of hers. Jacob was still scoffing cake down his throat.

'Yes, Henry has the best imported from India.' I explained finally finishing pouring mine. I turned to see her eyes still trying to figure me out, 'you never told me why you came to London. Henry didn't receive a letter from the Brotherhood saying they were sending help.' I scrutinised, eyeing Evie suspiciously.

'Uh…' Evie quickly glanced to her brother over my shoulder looking much like a codfish that I sometimes saw on the market stalls- wide eyed and flappy mouthed, 'it was a quick decision.' She slipped back into her cool façade giving me a charming smile. It was so quick I nearly swooned at the sight. _Keep it under control, Élise!_ I berated myself.

Evie continued, 'the Brotherhood wanted someone in London as quickly as possible. They decided waiting on a reply from Mr Green would take too long.'

I hummed into my cup, taking a long sip of the deliciously fragrant water, Evie's story didn't seem to sit well with me. If Evie and Jacob were here for the reason they stated why hadn't the Brotherhood sent them the first time Henry asked, rather than wait until the third or fourth letter? It just didn't make sense.

'And a good thing too, Starrick's grip is getting tighter,' I sighed looking at the flagstone floor, suddenly finding that more interesting than the two strangers in the kitchen. Evie shifted again, her form becoming rigid with curiosity at my melancholic words.

'He's recently united most of the cities cut-throats under one name; the Blighters. Every company, builders yard, train system, buses, everything is under Starrick's control. He has a say in _everything._ '

Evie was about to say something when the bell in the shop rang loudly and mumbling could be heard.

'That'll be Henry.' I said finishing my tea and placing the cup on the side, Evie did the same and followed me through into the shop. Jacob stayed behind and continued to shove cake down his neck.

Henry stood with the door still open gaping wide-eyed around his shop. I hadn't noticed before just how much of a mess I had caused jumping onto Jacob the way I did. The candle was laying on its side on the counter still burning- dripping wax onto the sleek wooden top, the stool behind the counter had been tipped over, the log book had been turned upside down and was face down on the floor with a few pages missing. The coat rack had also been tipped onto the floor. I flinched guilty when Henry's pensive gaze fell onto me. He was a tall man with light chocolate skin, hair so brown it looks black and eyes that were a deep warm hazelnut brown. He wore the traditional Assassin robes of the Kashmiri Assassins of the Indian Brotherhood, a mixture of whites, golds, reds and blues with Indian symbols curling up the arms underneath twists of blue rope and a golden gauntlet that held his Hidden Blade. I could tell Evie was taken aback by his handsome features as she let out a little gasp of surprise. But then his name didn't exactly indicate where he came from.

'Uh, hi Henry. How was everyone?' I asked sheepishly taking a calculated step towards him, though I remained out of reach. Even though he didn't like violence he could still give you a stinging slap to the ear.

'Cold and wet,' he seethed pulling off his robes to show his shirt of Indian manufacture, 'it sure is wretched out there.' His steeled gaze went from me to Evie who was still by my side, though a little further back, 'and who might our guest be?' He smiled charmingly at her, no doubt he was attempting to flirt.

'Oh, uh. This is Miss Evie, her brother Jacob is in the kitchen stuffing his face with my Victoria sponge.' I added a little disheartened, I hadn't got to taste my own creation. The light in Henry's eyes dimmed slightly, neither had he and he loves my cooking. His eyes, though dimmed from the fact of having no cake to accompany his tea, traced over Evie's light but shapely features, face and body. He took in her steely calculative gaze, her steady stance and elaborate yet simple Assassin robes. I noted the dirt and muck around her boots signalling she had been travelling all day. Looking passed Evie I saw Jacob had joined his sister in greeting Henry, either that or he was all out of cake.

'Two assassins, both equal in height, one female, one male, two decades old with two devilish smiles. You must be the Frye twins.'

'Yes, we are.' Replied Evie rather loftily, 'how did you know?' She glanced to Jacob before smiling rather attractively at Henry, a smile he willingly returned. I was surprised at the sudden strange feeling bubbling up inside my chest turning my feelings towards Henry sour.

'Your father spoke of you often,' he gave the twins a warm but sad smile.

'You knew father?' Evie asked, her eyes lit up as she shifted her feet. Jacob groaned and rolled his eyes.

'Yes, he helped me in the past. He was a close friend, but this isn't the first time of speaking to you both either. We used to correspond quite often when you were younger.'

Evie nodded, 'yes, I remember.' Evie smiled warmly.

'I was sorry to hear of his passing.' Henry said with a heavy tone. I flushed, this was news to me. I would have to ask Henry later why he had thought it best not to clue me in on the death of Ethan Frye.

A clock chimed from behind the counter, tolling nine o'clock. I tried to stifle a yawn, I had been entertaining the twins since six o'clock and it was hard work to say the least.

'I think Miss Élise has the right idea, coming all the way from Crawley must have been a trek for you both,' Henry clasped his hands together looking between the three of us, 'now. The flat only has two rooms so therefore we are going to have to share until other arrangements are made.'

Decisions were then made that the boys would share and the girls would share. I led Evie to my room ahead of the boys, a rather awkward silence fell between us as I escorted Evie up the creaky stairs, cringing at the loud groan the bottom two steps gave under our boots.

My room was just big enough for a simple double four poster bed, a small wardrobe against the wall at the end of the bed, a bed side table that had my burnt out candle and a stuffy red leather chair facing the large window that looked out onto the dreary and dark London street. Though the lamps were lit, the lights looked as if they were melting into cobble stone and brick work behind. The dim glow from the lamps outside gave enough light for me to quickly dart across my room and light a new candle that threw the room into a new yellow glow. I glanced nervously to Evie who was standing in the doorway not knowing what to do and studying my room. We were quiet for a moment until a loud thud caught our attention from the hallway. Henry was dumping piles of books on the floor just outside his door, he had such a large collection of books that there was barely enough room to move with just him in the room, but now he was sharing with the youngest Frye twin- something had to be done.

'It's a lovely room you have.' Evie complimented as she wandered into the room playing absently with her gloved fingers.

'Th-thank you.' I stammered feeling a familiar heat rising across my cheeks and the top parts of my ears. The books I owned, though a collection greatly smaller than Henry's, were stacked neatly on my

set of draws in alphabetical order. I saw Evie's beautiful eyes quickly skim over the spines consequently reading the titles.

'Um… you may take my bed. I changed it this morning, luckily, and I'll take the chair.' I explained pulling a sheet back as I spoke.

'No, no!' Cried Evie, her brow crinkled with defiance as she shook her head. The wisps of brown hair hanging by her eyes were flung from side to side, giving her a strange sophisticated childish look to her.

'I insist I take the chair, I wouldn't want to turf you out of your own bed.'

I smiled sheepishly, 'no, its fine. Honestly, I don't mind.'

Evie tilted her head to one side and gave me a stern look, 'I insist.' I puffed out my cheeks ready to argue back, but then just as quickly gave in.

'Fine,' I gasped rolling my eyes but threw her a mischievous smile, 'we'll argue about it in the morning.'

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 **And that's that.**

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